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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29726973">be still</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/whim4short/pseuds/whim4short'>whim4short</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Break Up, Established Relationship, Falling Out of Love, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 19:40:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,281</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29726973</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/whim4short/pseuds/whim4short</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ironically, it’s a beautiful evening the day Kiyoomi decides to rip his own heart out of his chest. He figures he could offer it to a god at some point, or maybe trade it in for something less painful. </p><p>All he knows is that he doesn’t want it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>be still</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sink in the guest bathroom still has a leak. </p><p>Kiyoomi stares at it, turning the faucet on and off again to make sure he’s not imagining anything. But just like he thought, it’s still there, still dripping unused water into the basin below, still driving the water bill through the roof unnecessarily. </p><p>Kiyoomi asked Atsumu to fix the leak two months ago. </p><p>Still, still, still.</p><p>“Atsumu.” </p><p>The sounds of feet padding through the apartment get louder until Atsumu pokes his head into the doorway. “Hm?”</p><p>“I asked you to fix the sink.”</p><p>Atsumu glances at the faucet. “Ah, right. I’ll get to that.”</p><p>“It’s been over two months-”</p><p>“And it’ll still be there when I get to it.” Atsumu snorts. Kiyoomi tries to find the humor in it, or the humor in the situation at all. He comes up empty. </p><p>His irritation must show on his face, because Atsumu sighs. “I’ll do it soon. I promise, okay?” He says, disappearing before Kiyoomi can respond.</p><p>Kiyoomi remembers a time when Atsumu’s promises were worth their weight in gold. Now, though, as he remembers Atsumu making the same promise the month before, and the month before that one, Kiyommi can’t be so sure.</p><p>He closes the bathroom door behind himself and refuses to think about what other promises Atsumu doesn’t care to keep anymore.</p><p>***</p><p>Some days, Atsumu prefers to arrive early to practice and stay late, head so full of thoughts that only a ball in the air can help him think clearly. Kiyoomi doesn’t think much of it, giving Atsumu his space and trying his hardest to get used to the feeling of driving to and from the practice gym with an empty passenger seat. </p><p>He didn’t realize it had become a pattern until the day Bokuto approaches him, hands wringing the bottom of his practice jersey.</p><p>“Hey, Kiyoomi-san.” Bokuto smiles. It doesn’t reach his eyes and that puts Kiyoomi on edge more than anything. “We just wanted to check up on you.”</p><p>Kiyoomi can’t help but raise his eyebrows. “I’m fine.”</p><p>“Good! Good. We just- since you and Atsumu have been coming separately to practice, Hinata and I wanted to make sure you were okay.” </p><p>Kiyoomi glances over Bokuto’s shoulder, and Atsumu is on the other side of the gym  setting against the wall. Hinata is a few feet away, standing unnaturally still, undoubtedly trying to have the same conversation that Bokuto’s having with him. From the tense and controlled way Atsumu’s holding his shoulders, it doesn’t look like the conversation is very successful. </p><p>And of course they don’t let this...shift influence them on the court. Atsumu’s sets are still wicked sharp, Kiyoomi’s spikes just as fierce. That won’t change.</p><p>But when the ball slams against the other side of the court, they don’t look to each other in victory. Atsumu turns to high five Hinata or Bokuto, while Kiyoomi receives a smile and thumbs up from Meian. They still win, and they’ll continue to win, but Kiyoomi looks around at celebration dinners and realizes Atsumu isn’t by his side. </p><p>He faintly remembers thanking Bokuto for his concern, making his eyes crinkle in a way that makes it look like he’s smiling behind his mask. It had made something in his teammate relax, even just a little bit, and Kiyoomi’s thankful for that.</p><p>He files out of the gym with the rest of the team at the end of practice, the thudding of the volleyball against the wall beginning to echo as it becomes the only sound in the room. Kiyoomi swears he can feel each hit ricochet off his skull, pushing his thoughts to a place he doesn’t want them to go.</p><p>He sees Hinata and Bokuto glance at him as they head for the locker room, but he can’t deal with another conversation. He doesn’t look behind him, doesn’t bother asking Atsumu why he’s staying late again, or if he would like to go home together for a change. Part of him already knows the answer.</p><p>***</p><p>Kiyoomi has always liked the quiet. It only comes to those that are patient enough to wait for it, and he’s never understood the need to fill spaces with unnecessary words. He’s always preferred silence, and the quiet has always been gentle to him in return. </p><p>When he introduced Atsumu to his silence, he expected it to chase him away. Kiyoomi wouldn’t blame him. Atsumu is all laughter and golden smile, two things silence didn’t think too highly of. But Atsumu was nothing if not an enigma, and he showed Kiyoomi the type of comfort silence can bring when it’s shared with the right people.</p><p>Back then, Kiyoomi would’ve argued that he basked in the comfortable silence he shared with Atsumu. Now, all he can think about is how he took it for granted.</p><p>The quiet that washes over their apartment now is a nasty thing, holding secrets they’re too scared to say aloud and turning any sound into claps of thunder that shake the walls.</p><p>Kiyoomi’s suffocated on it more than once, found himself gasping for air at the dinner table or when Atsumu comes home from practice. He reaches out for that comfort again, desperately tries to revive it with a soft touch here or a comment about his day there, but the silence just sits heavier in his chest and says...nothing.</p><p>He doesn’t know what he expected.</p><p>***</p><p>Ironically, it’s a beautiful evening the day Kiyoomi decides to rip his own heart out of his chest. He figures he could offer it to a god at some point, or maybe trade it in for something less painful. All he knows is that he doesn’t want it.</p><p>Atsumu is pressed against one corner of their couch, legs crossed on the coffee table and thumb rhythmically swiping at his phone screen. Whether he’s actually absorbing anything is a mystery to Kiyoomi. He used to be good at reading these situations, used to know Atsumu like the back of his hand or the curve of a ball. Now, his eyebrows pinch together as he realizes how little he knows about the man beside him. He wonders absently if Astumu feels the same way about him. </p><p>“Do you still love me?” </p><p>Atsumu blanches, face contorting like Kiyoomi just caught him watching porn in the dark. He’s never seen him more defensive.</p><p>“Why would ya ask me that?”</p><p>Kiyoomi feels himself smile despite having every reason not to. “Because I look at you and you look through me.”</p><p>Atsumu’s eyes widen before he can help it, and he turns away from Kiyoomi sharply. That sickly silence threatens to work its way back into the room, but Atsumu sighs and looks down at his lap. </p><p>“I...I don’t know.”</p><p>“...Oh.”</p><p>“Sakusa-”</p><p>Kiyoomi jumps to his feet, stomach churning at just how <i>wrong</i> his name sounds falling from Atsumu’s mouth. </p><p>“Okay. It’s okay,” Kiyoomi chokes out. The words burn at the back of his throat, sitting heavy and unwelcome in his mouth like the lie that it is. </p><p>He shuts himself in the bathroom, leaky tap deafening in his ears as he grips the countertop and begs himself not to cry. He doesn’t dare move, doesn’t dare try to answer Atsumu when he knocks on the door. He waits until he hears the front door close before sliding to the ground, gripping his chest with one hand and steadying himself on the bathroom floor with the other.</p><p>His heart is still beating, loud and painful and sharp against his hand, a solid reminder that he’s stuck with it, in all its faults and fears and stubbornness.</p><p><i>Be still,</i> he urges. Ruefully. Selfishly. Uselessly. <i> Be still.</i></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>based on true events hehe<br/>thank you so much for reading! </p><p>  <a href="https://twitter.com/whim4short">scream about hq with me on twitter</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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